


in your eyes

by symbionic



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: M/M, Stream of Consciousness, dennis has big feelings when he's around mac but he can't understand what they are, loosely based somewhere during season 14, post north dakota for sure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-29 17:26:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21413899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symbionic/pseuds/symbionic
Summary: Dennis is sitting at the counter.People are talking around him, chitchatting, but he can barely hear what they're saying, he tunes them out.It's not like people ever have anything interesting to talk about, he learned that a long time ago, so why not just focus on himself?Except he can't even do that either, not really.
Relationships: Mac McDonald/Dennis Reynolds, MacDennis
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	in your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> English is my second language and I'm really not used to writing, so I apologize in advance for everything.  
I just have big feelings as well, and I didn't have internet for a little while, so I got them out.  
I really hope this isn't boring to read or OOC.  
Title is from the song by Peter Gabriel that was featured in TGGR, but the song is not really that related anyway.

Dennis is sitting at the counter.  
People are talking around him, chitchatting, but he can barely hear what they're saying, he tunes them out.  
It's not like people ever have anything interesting to talk about, he learned that a long time ago, so why not just focus on himself?  
Except he can't even do that either, not really.  
He feels like his body doesn't have weight, like it could fly away with a blow of the wind.  
He doesn't understand his own feelings, but he knows, somewhere inside himself, that they're very strong. He knows because they seem to fill his chest when Mac's around, whether in life or in mind.  
But what are they?  
Is it friendship? Gratefulness? Hate? Love?  
He's not sure he can feel any of those, which he might and which he might not.  
It's like he's locked himself outside the shell he created, and he can no longer tell.  
But Mac can, and Dennis knows one thing, he truly hates that Mac can.  
That shell exists for a reason, yet it feels like Mac owns a key to it, one that not even Dennis himself possesses.  
And maybe it was better like this, he ponders, maybe he doesn't want to know what's inside after all.  
But somehow it makes him feel violated to think that this man, this companion, that prides himself on knowing him so well, might know what's in there, when he himself doesn't.  
He stands without a cover, soul naked, in front of him. And he hates it.  
  
So maybe that was it. Hate.  
But he could never seem to get rid of him, and he could never seem to get rid of the loud, incessant, negative cloud that buzzed in his ears if he ever tried to do so. He was stuck.  
Maybe it was something in Mac's presence that made him feel safe, like the warmth of his body so he wouldn't have to pay for heaters. His strong fit that could hold a door shut if anyone dared to break inside. Something convenient, like a kind mirror when the ones in their house felt like an overwhelming mean crowd. And they kept saying things Dennis didn't wanna hear.  
Kind of like the physical crowd he was in, right then.  
Mac showed himself every time, as always, and he could mirror what Dennis was actually like or what he hoped to be, in his endless praising eyes, and his endless words of encouragement, and that's when it felt like Dennis needed to have him near, to look at himself in those eyes, or he might just lose himself inside the crowd or get carried by a gust. Grounding, heavy, like chains clasped on his ankles.  
Need.  
  
He hated needing people, he knew that much thanks to experience. They're unreliable, and he can't afford the daily uncertainty.  
But Mac wasn't that for the most part, in his own way he was like his rock in the midst of a storm, and Dennis was sure Mac felt like that himself. Always inside that storm, but never letting it show.  
Dennis wondered if it ever got to him, and if he ever felt like just a weight to Mac, even when he himself felt weightless, and especially so.  
Dennis could never be there to catch him, to offer a safe haven in that storm, that's how he felt, brittle, and that suddenly gave weight to his chest only, all at once, pounding, getting stronger, until he thought he was going to get crushed under his own ugly heaviness, with no space to breathe.  
  
So then he looked around, finding himself in the bar once again, like always, and there were Mac's eyes ready to meet him, welcome him inside. Like always.  
Warm, strong, trapping, safe.  
And suddenly he felt peace again.  
  
Peace. The storm had subsided.  
Then guilt creeped in, and he knew that feeling all too well, one of the few he could never seem to forget or confuse. In every bite and every thought, ever present but never acknowledged.  
  
Was he Mac's storm, then?  
  
Shaking his head ever so slightly, he turned.  
That heaviness sunk to his ankles again, like he was bolted in place all of a sudden.  
Mac's stare was never mean, but Dennis' thoughts made it so. Every once in a while, without a warning, those eyes became cruel reflections of his own shortcomings, piercing through him to lay that seed of self-doubt.  
There was no true peace to be found after all, and the fault for that dangled on him, threatening.  
He didn't feel like he could measure up to that gaze.  
Again, he thought, why? What made him worthy of Mac's sickeningly sweet silent lies?  
Why did he need to be, anyway? Why care? It should've been enough to be worshipped.  
He didn't have answers. He couldn't grasp why he hopelessly needed them in the first place.  
  
It was painful how much he ran in circles in his head every time Mac was around, he wondered if Mac could ever notice.  
If it confused Mac as much as Dennis already was.  
  
They had been friends for a lifetime, and though he didn't care for him, he thought, he didn't want to lead him on either. Maybe that confusion was doing just that. Mac was convenient to him, so he had to avoid this problem at all costs, at least until he could figure himself out. If that could ever happen. Honestly, it was such a pain to be uncertain.  
Pain.  
  
In that moment, a sharp pain like a needle in his chest, that he swallowed down into his stomach, where it made him nauseous. He should've stayed away, so he could have avoided all of this annoying trouble.  
Yet there he was.  
There Mac was.  
Now next to each other.  
  
As he was casually discussing with Charlie behind the counter, about this or that, their arms brushed against each other.  
He was right there, with him. Despite everything.  
  
Pain.  
All he felt was pain, all he gave others was pain.  
And what a pain it all was, he thought bitterly.  
The need to push Mac away bubbled inside of him again like boiling water, burning, violent.  
He couldn't leave, he couldn't move, he was stuck, bolted in place.  
But maybe he could get Mac to leave.  
Maybe he could get Mac to safety.  
If he was mean enough, if he pushed him enough.  
Trying to focus on how much he hated Mac's determination to stay despite everything. He couldn't see a reason for him to do so. It seemed hopeless.  
Dennis knew what pain felt like, and it felt like dying and being alive at the same time.  
At least Dennis felt alive when Mac was around.  
  
How did Mac feel when he was around?  
  
As Dennis tried to figure it out, emptiness filled him again.  
Static. Something undecryptable that he didn't have access to. Hidden behind a wall, now pulsing stronger and firm.  
He ran his hand through his hair taking the cold air in his lungs for what felt like the first time that night. He might have forgotten to breathe, but that tends to happen when he's lost in thoughts, and that tends to happen when Mac's around, for some reason.  
Whatever Mac felt was inaccessible for Dennis.  
  
Yet suddenly, as he thought about what it might've been, he was weightless again. How could a touch so agonizing make him feel so light in the end?  
He tried to think about it again.  
How did Mac feel when he was around?  
  
More desperate this time. Maybe if he could finally answer that, he could verify if their feelings matched. Even so, he couldn't picture it, so he started throwing guesses, like pebbles against a wall. No use in trying, but it was all he could do.  
  
Maybe it felt like nothing, and everything at once. Painful.  
Like life and like death. Like floating underwater. As if drowning didn't feel suffocating, as if storms weren't that scary even as you were submerged entirely.  
Like something that sucked out the air from his lungs, over and over again, relentless. But that felt like breathing.  
  
So maybe, if that was the case, they felt the same thing after all, then.  
Whatever that was.  
That didn't make any difference in his head though.  
This ruthless and torturing interrogation, those cycling feelings inside of him, they would always start again as soon as Mac got near, every time like the first, and he could never put a name on this because of its complexity and intensity. It couldn't be that simple, nothing ever is.  
Back to square one.  
  
And, despite all of this, there they both were, still.  
In the bar, together.  
He at least found solace in that, for the time being. And that was good enough for now.


End file.
